


A Penny for the Old Guy

by Misterkingdom



Series: How Mercy Looks From Here [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman - Fandom, DCU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Gen, Snippet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-29
Updated: 2014-05-29
Packaged: 2018-01-27 02:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1711448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misterkingdom/pseuds/Misterkingdom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Mister Grayson, you haven’t belonged here in quite some time.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Penny for the Old Guy

**Author's Note:**

> 1) The title is from the Hallow Men by T.S. Eliot  
> This is a snippet from my failed mirror-verse fanfiction, 'How Mercy Looks from Here'. I'll be salvaging it for the parts I like and posting shards from it periodically.

“Your Volvo is parked in Master Drake’s spot. You might want to remedy the situation before he gets here.” Alfred Pennyworth’s face was a rippled pond of wrinkles. He was hunched almost in half, like gravity itself was too much for the ancient bastard. His cane was the only thing stopping him from plummeting to Hell where he belonged. The man was seventy going on infinity. His age was accelerated by whiskey, broads and gnarled, twisted deeds he performed in the name of Owlman—such as raising the man’s cannon fodder.

Dick flicked his virgin Marlboro to the ground. “It used to belong to me.”

“Mister Grayson, you haven’t belonged here in quite some time.” Alfred said.

Dick slipped another cigarette between his teeth and crunched down. “Yeah? Well, eat me you hateful old fossil.”

Alfred’s eyes disappeared in folds of elephant hide skin when he smiled. He stopped in front of Dick with a hand clasped behind his back. The other crumpled around his cane like a mound of white clay.

“A compelling argument, Master Richard.” Alfred conjured up a lighter. Dick lent into the flame until a gas leak of smoke pilfered from his cigarette.

“You’re looking awfully smug today.” Dick said before taking a drag of his Marlboro. He blew smoke signals in Alfred’s direction. The man swatted them away. “You finally retiring?”

Alfred wetted his lips before he spoke. “Just seeing your cherubic disposition does this old heart good, sir.” Alfred said. “Beside the point, I can’t retire. What would you and Master Wayne do without me?”

Dick grinned and rolled the cigarette butt between his teeth. “Cut the shit, Alfie. We both know he’d have your head on the gate of Wayne manor if he even thought you were trying to cut and run.”

Alfred’s head is a chasm of secrets. He could bring down the entire Owl Empire with a few choice words. Maybe even start a war.

“Well, I find it best to give the roguish type what they want.” Alfred tilted his head down at the bloody crescent moon where Owlman’s talons dug into Dick’s wrist. “You should try it some time.”

Alfred wrapped Dick’s gashes, mended his bones and held him when he cried. He’d acted as a buffer between Owlman’s misplaced rage and Dick’s soft body. He’d always been a soft touch with Dick. There was pain in his words.

“So you do care, Alfie?”

“It’s just that club soda won’t get the blood stains out of the carpets.”

Dick chuckled and smashed his half-finished cigarette into his palm. He surveyed the crop circle he’d made in the middle of his hand before standing up. “Don’t worry so much. I survived this long, right?”

Tim pulled up right then, looking as testy as a vampire in the Sahara.


End file.
